


Two Loves

by qwerty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Episode Tag, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwerty/pseuds/qwerty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Uther's death, Arthur finds comfort in his loved ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Loves

On the seventh day after his father's funeral, she comes to him again in the darkest hour of the night, while he lies in bed and twists in guilt over his part in that debacle, over his foolishness in trusting a sorcerer.

She is wearing nothing but a modest white shift that covers her to her ankles, barely suggesting the curves he is so familiar with beneath, and her hair is loose and curling about her shoulders and down to her waist. He sits up in bed, starts to laugh, more from surprise than anything else, but she has climbed into his lap and pressed a small hand over his mouth, stopping sound and questions.

Gwen holds his gaze for several tense moments, then places her other hand on his chest, and pushes him back down to rest on his back, while his heart begins to pick up speed with anxiety and fearful anticipation, wondering at her boldness and her choice of timing.

All she says is, "Hush, Arthur," as she lies down and curls into his side, atop the sheets covering him, chaste and comforting. He turns his face into her soft shoulder, and lets the silent tears come.

* * *

It's late in the day, when Merlin is lagging and less alert than usual after having spent most of it chasing Arthur about through the woods after an imaginary deer. Arthur comes up behind Merlin, catches him up and bears him squawking to the mossy ground with a raucous war-cry, then lets himself go limp and flatten Merlin where they land, pinning him in place.

He sighs in appreciation of the delightful, indignant silence that comes with Merlin's having the breath knocked out of him by the fall. He would have done this sooner, but Merlin had been moping about, furtive and guilty, and needed the time and distraction, or it would have just been a sad, awkward silence that would depress both of them more.

Once Arthur is satisfied that Merlin is properly annoyed with him and not fretting like a broody hen, he ruffles Merlin's head and blows a wet raspberry in his neck, to his shocked offense. While Merlin sputters and tries to compose a complaint, Arthur says, "I don't blame you, you know? I wanted to believe in the sorcerer. He might have thought he could do it as well." Merlin sucks in a quick breath, cutting off whatever he was about to say, as Arthur had intended.

What Arthur doesn't add is that he shouldn't have trusted any sorcerer who wasn't Merlin, no matter how well-meaning they appeared. That is a confrontation for another day, to be resolved when their mutual hurts and failures are less raw and immediate. Instead, he rocks his hips gently against Merlin's, feeling for the tell-tale bulge filling at the friction, and grins when Merlin's eyes widen and he shifts under Arthur tentatively, breaths coming shorter.

"Stop sulking and make yourself useful," he orders, and is pleased by the spark of gold in Merlin's eyes, at once amusement and rebellion.


End file.
